The Deepest Fears
by my pen is better than my sword
Summary: What if things were different for Bella?  Did anyone stop to think how it would be if the thought of an immortal vampire loving you could be a terrifying thing?  What if Bella...was scared of Edward?
1. Opening

I am not who you think.

That popular book that you read…_Twilight_, I believe they called it…it is a lie.

It was not written in the point of view of Isabella Swan, no, instead it was written by what Edward and the Cullen's _thought_ was her point of view.

It was a complete and utter lie.

Nothing that they wrote could be any further than the truth about me, and the truth on how I felt about all of this that happened to me…

But it's my turn to share.


	2. Going Back To the Rain

**(Haha! I finally got this done!)**

**Hey Twilight fans out there reading,**

**I hate Twilight. (Harry potter ftw bitchaaaaaas~)**

**If that makes you want to stop reading, go ahead. I, however, refuse to make fun of it in this story. It is strictly opinion free.**

**And if you want to go all fangirl and correct me if something never happened, or if I wrote something wrong, then I'm going to ****stop**** writing this story (unless it's actually constructive and **_**isn't**_** about how I've messed something up). I have the book opened and ALL THAT I'M ADDING is just Bella's "true opinion" and extra scenery details (reading Twilight again in the attempt to write this fanfic really irritates me…I can't believe she (Stephanie Meyer) doesn't write setting detail in! I was on the same page for around TWO HOURS!) Yarg…working with Twilight seems…pointless…but I did it!**

…**Just saying…er, venting. Now you can read. **

Driving me to the airport, my mother looked calm and relaxed…it was a front. I was lounging in the back of the car casually, glancing out at the vivid scenery of skyscrapers and city buses. That was a front too.

It was hot outside, an unsurprising seventy-five degrees. I would have denied the heat any other day, but today I didn't readjust myself to avoid it; instead I let I sit on my skin, to remind me that I was leaving it for something much more cold…and not as dry.

Where I was leaving to was the complete opposite of the warm paradise I lived in now; I was heading to Forks, Washington. Never heard of it? That's not surprising; not a lot of people ever have. I have, however, and it was a small, rainy town with a population of…molecules. I used to live there with my mom and dad, Charlie, until my mother had enough and ran off with me. Probably the only wise thing that my mother had ever done. Then again, she was the one who had gotten into the relationship with my dad too early.

I didn't want to go to Forks. I didn't want to leave Phoenix; didn't want to leave the heat, the sun, the endless crowds that I could hide in day after day after day…

But you need to blame my mom for that. She's dating a baseball player, and their going to be traveling a lot…just great. So, it was either Forks, or a trailer park. No more Phoenix for me…even though I'm the one who takes care of my mother, instead of vise versa.

We pulled up to the driving lot and walked in, along with the other many people leaving for vacations, and to visit loved family members on the east coast…

I was doing neither.

We walked silently to the gateway, and as I flashed my ticket to the flight attendant, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to see my mom's worried, innocent eyes…so much like my own face. Except that I wasn't innocent…at least not to my pleasure. Who am I kidding? I'm a klutz; innocence just seems to fly away from me.

"Bella" she started hesitantly. I knew how she would finish; I had heard the same words as a counsel over a thousand times before.

"You don't have to do this."

I had looked down to the ground when she said this; now that she had said it, I looked back up and stared at her, into her child-like eyes; somewhat naïve, I knew that it was okay if I did leave; the bills would get paid, thanks to her boyfriend Phil, there would be food, and I was sure that she wouldn't set anything on fire…possibly.

There wasn't a reason for me to be there…but I didn't want to go either. And I knew that the material aspect wasn't the reason for my mom to say that.

I looked up at her with as little emotion as possible, trying hard to hide my sadness as I left my home and travel back to my birthplace…

"That's okay…" I said, staring at her nose, trying to avoid her eyes. "I…_want_ to go." I heard my voice crack on 'want', but the point was still evident that I couldn't change my mind, no matter how much I wanted to.

Her face fell slightly. "Tell Charlie that I say hi."

I nodded. "I will."

Her face grew serious as she looked at me. "I will see you soon." She promised emptily. I knew that there wouldn't be any way for her to. "You can come home whenever you want…and I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

Her eyes flickered as she said that last part. I knew she meant well, but she wouldn't willingly come back to me. I didn't want to be a bother to her, or Phil-I didn't even want to be a bother to Charlie, but bothering him was better than bothering two people at once…

I nodded obediently. My mother nodded with me, knowing well that I was lying as well when I had said that I wanted to go to Forks; I have always been a horrible liar. People just see right through all the things I say…I feel like I'm just a book at times…except that no one reads nowadays anyways so…I just feel like a…facebook page, I guess. Except that I have no facebook…

I was about to turn to the gateway when she grabbed me into a hug. I stood there, mother hugging me, and slowly put my arm up onto hers. She squeezed me tighter; I simply waited for her to release me into the gates leading to an abnormally wet hell.

I turned as I walked down the long hallway to the plane; I turned and waved off to my mother, who held her purse as if it would make me turn around and come back.

It did make me turn around. But not to her direction.

As I took my seat in the plane I wondered how I was going to spend the four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle. That's not the end of it though; there's another hour to get to Port Angeles…and then _another _hour to actually get to Forks.

As I thought about the hour car ride with Charlie, my wonders on entertainment for the two flights vanished. I frowned; _that _was going to be awkward.

I used to visit Forks every summer and stay with Charlie until I was about fourteen years old. Then I insisted on stop going to the depressing microscopic town, and had met up with him for two weeks in California instead.

He was probably wondering what had changed my mind about Forks for me to actually come back. He knew that I hated going there, let alone _move_ there. I pulled up in the seat in an attempt to readjust my position. Nothing changed my mind; my options just kind of backfired on me.

He wasn't upset though; no, he seemed pretty pleased when I had called to let him know that I was going to live with him permanently…for now, at least. Hopefully some monster will come rip me up and _drag_ me against my will back to Phoenix.

Ha. I wish.

But the one hour car ride was _definitely_ going to be incredibly uneasy. None of us were much of "talkers", and, like I said earlier, he must be curious as to why it was I decided to move out with him to Forks.

I pulled up the book in the coat pocket of my parka (yes my carry on is a parka…believe me, if you ever go to Forks, you'd be wise to bring one too) and opened it to the first page. I didn't care what book it was; I just grabbed the hardest read from Barnes & Nobles that I could in twenty minutes.

I began to read when i felt someone's eyes on me. I slowly looked up to my right to see a woman staring at me with concern. She was clutching a cross tied around her neck. She squinted her eyes when I looked at her and I could see her grip on the cross tighten. I bit my lip and looked back down at my book. I didn't feel the eyes leave my side.

I eventually got too absorbed in my book to notice her strange fixed gaze. I read eagerly; glad to be distracted from the reality of where I was ending up.

**Attention passengers, **

I looked up from the pages to see a flight attendant speaking into a microphone. Her sound projected over the plane seats.

**We will be landing soon. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. Thank you for riding with us today.**

I sighed. _So much for that_ I thought, sliding the book back into the parka pocket. _Back to reality…_

I noticed that the odd woman across the aisle from me was missing from her seat. She took up all three seats in her row; she had a white flowery coat-blanket of some sort draped over two of the seats, and had suit cases covering the floor in front of the chairs…was that all of her carry on?

She came back and I glanced out the window, feeling a bit guilty for looking at her things.

As I looked out at the approaching ground I heard a very light thump on the seat next to me. I moved my head away from the window, my eyes still gazing out and forced my head to look at the seat next to me.

Shining in the light of the airplane was a silver cross…and a note. Frowning, I grabbed the cross and shoved it into the other pocket of the parka. I wasn't religious; why did I need a cross from someone who was glaring at me like I was the devil? I wasn't possessed; why would someone just give someone a cross…?

I held the note in my hands, turning it to the back, then to the front again. I considered opening it…but settled on stuffing it into the pocket of the blue parka. I'll read it later…I suppose…

Another flight later I landed in the small land of Port Angeles. There was rain outside. I didn't expect anything less; I knew that the sun was a distant thing now.

I grabbed my things and struggled with them as I walked to the door. I attempted to walk through the crowd until I actually got to the door. I tried to open them with my side, but the door didn't budge open wide enough. I began to push harder.

Someone pushed besides me and I stumbled onto the wet pavement…which made me slip even further. _See?_ I landed on my butt, my luggage everywhere. Told you I was a klutz.

Charlie ran from wherever he was standing as I fell, helping me up and grabbing one of my bags. He let go of my arm as I was steadying myself and I stumbled back towards the street. Charlie dropped the suitcase and grabbed me before I landed. "It's good to see you, Bell." He said smiling as he pulled me back up. I heard snickers from behind me. I returned to my feet with a sigh, and began to gather up my suitcases. He did the same, lifting up two and we began to walk to his car. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?"

"Mom is fine…It's…good to see you Dad." I coughed out bluntly, trying to show some positivity. I'm not sure it would be wise to call him 'Charlie'…to his face at least.

I caught sight of it thirty feet away; I should have guessed that he would pick me up in his…_work_ car.

Charlie is Police Chief to the people of Forks. This was his only car, last time I checked_. I need my own car_ I realized as we got closer. _I'd rather not be driven around with red and blue lights on top…everywhere I go…_

My few bags fit easily in the trunk of Charlie's cruiser. I threw them in, and opened the door to the shot gun seat and slid in.

"Bella, I've found a car for you." I turned to him. How did he know that I wanted a car? Ugh, I'm so easy to read.

He saw my face of surprise and looked a bit worried. Probably misinterpreted it. That seemed to happen a lot to me. "A _good_ car for you, really cheap."

I turned back and raised my eyebrow slightly. A good car for me? Jeez, did the seatbelts have bubble wrap or something? I hate being a klutz. What does he mean, _good_ for me?

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where'd you find it?" I asked, remembering his use of the word "cheap."

"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?"

"No." In fact, I barely remembered anything about Forks or the surrounding areas. I did know that La Push was a tiny Native American reservation by the coast.

Charlie looked a bit discouraged, as if I had just pushed aside his attempt of bringing up memories of this drenched town. "He used to go fishing with us during the summer," he prompted.

Ah, perfect explanation as to why I didn't remember him; it was a memory of the town and all those forced summer "vacations" to it. I tend to push back unpleasant, painful, unnecessary things from my memory. It's incredibly helpful…at times…

Charlie continued, despite my silence, once again, probably misinterpreting it. "He's in a wheelchair now, so he can't drive it anymore, and he offered to sell it cheap."

I scowled to myself at his use of the word "cheap." "What year is it?" I asked him up front. It was the right thing to do, because his changed expression proved enough to me that my assumptions about the use of the word "cheap" were correct.

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine…" Without any responses from me, he quickly continued to cover his tracks. "It's only a few years old, really."

Charlie must have forgotten about me as much as I had about Forks. I never give up that easily.

"When did he buy it?"

"He er…bought it in 1984, I think."

A _few_ years? _Really_ Charlie?

I inhaled deeply. "Did he buy it new?" I asked a bit testily.

"Well…no, I think it was new in…the early sixties-" he paused, looking at me, delaying his next response: "-or late fifties at the earliest," he added sheepishly.

"Ch-Dad," I corrected myself before continuing…and before he could notice I called him by his first name…"I don't really know anything about cars. I mean…" I started, throwing my arms up in the air in a pointless gesture. "I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I can't afford a mechanic…"

"No, really Bella, the thing runs great." The _thing_?

"They don't build them like that anymore," he continued, as I pondered the possibilities of "the thing" becoming a nickname for my to-be ancient hunk of metal. Remembering that it was so called "cheap," I asked him the price: "How cheap is cheap?"

"Well, uh…honey, I kind of already bought it for you. Like…a…homecoming gift." He glanced at me with this; a homecoming gift. Nice word choice; made it seem like I _wanted_ to come back "home;" like I saw this place as my home…

But still. Free.

"You didn't need to do that Dad…I was going to buy a car…"

Charlie looked ahead as he responded. "I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He said the last part awkwardly, in an attempt to seem casual and nonchalant. We both weren't considered "comfortable" with expressing any emotions…especially out loud. So I looked straight ahead as well when I responded.

"That's…really…nice Dad. Thanks…I appreciate it." I tried to sound legitimate when I said it, but happiness in Forks…an impossibility. I didn't need to have him grieve over my displeasure of being here though; it was pointless. Plus…free truck…

"Well…you're welcome," he mumbled out, embarrassed by my thanks. Silence ensued. I stared out the window at the green. It was too green; like an alien planet.

We eventually made it to Charlie's house without breaking that silence; the same small, two-bedroom house that I had lived in when I was born. The early days…The only days that my mom and Charlie had had, better phrased.

Parked on the street in front of the house, was the "new" truck. It had a faded red color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. It looked like the kind of truck that you saw on the news after a car accident, unscathed, or scratched…I loved it. It was my polar opposite; if it got into accidents, it never got hurt like how I always ended up doing.

"Wow, Dad! I love it. Thanks!" Now I wouldn't be walking in the rain, or being driven by the police to school. This just made my situation a little bearable.

"I'm…glad you like it." Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.

It took only one trip to get all of my stuff upstairs. I passed by what seemed to be the only bathroom in the house, and I hurried by it, not wanting to dwell on _that_ downturn. My old bedroom was the one I now occupied; its window facing over the front yard, a tree standing majestically in front of it. The room was the exact same as when I was a kid-with the only changes being that the crib was switched with a queen-sized bed and a desk was added. Everything else; the wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellow laced curtains by the window, even my old rocking chair-all of it were from my childhood.

The desk held an old second hand computer and a phone line stapled against the wall into the nearest phone jack. These were brought upon by my mother; attempting for us to keep in touch.

Charlie didn't help me unpack-a benefit, as I let a few tears slip out as I stared dejectedly outside. It gave me some alone time, something I never had with my mother constantly looming over me. I wouldn't go off on a water work fest now though; I'll save it for bed, when I realize how embarrassingly _terrible_ tomorrow morning will be.

I'd stand out like a sore thumb; Forks High School had only three hundred and fifty seven students before me. I would be a complete outsider; these kids probably _never_ had new students come before. Who would want to move here anyways?

But here I am from the city; where there's actually a normal glimpse of sun; I'd be a freak to them. Well…maybe I'd be a freak if I actually looked like a Phoenix girl; being ivory skinned didn't help me out in the slightest with that. Slender I was, but…not athletic, as you may have guessed from my rants of klutziness. I could be pretty…if there was color in my face. The only color here in Forks was green. I had none of that.

Thinking harder, I just faced that it wasn't just appearances that I wouldn't fit in with the students; I wasn't…social, per say. I didn't get around with peers… I didn't get along with anyone for that matter. If I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, then what the hell was I going to do here, where everyone would know my name/existence? Not even my mom, the only person I'm relatively close to, saw eye to eye with me. I usually wondered whether I was normal, if everyone had the same brain as me. Maybe I was glitched. Not that it mattered; there wasn't anything that could be done for me; it was the effect that I would have to face. And all that began tomorrow…Oh boy. Can't wait.

…**and that's that. Sorry, had to split the chapter up in half. I'll write the next part soon…ant I won't take forever like I did with this chapter orz.**

**Star signing off~**


	3. First Day: The Morning

**Hey guys! Finally updated~**

**Sorry, but I split chapter one again; I'll more than likely finish it by tomorrow. I couldn't handle the amount of space I was taking up with this…**

I didn't sleep well later that evening. I had my share of silent tears pour down my cheeks, but even after that I couldn't find any settlement. The rain slamming against the roof along with the wind heaving into the window couldn't fade off into white noise so it had remained loud and focused all night.

I had tried to pull the cold quilt over my head, and then added the stiff pillow. It did nothing to keep the noise from reaching my ears and I couldn't sleep until well after midnight, when the noise finally settled out.

I opened my eyes to a wet, fog-stained window. I sat up slowly, and yawned. The fog was too thick to see out of, and I felt trapped; like I was stuck inside of a bubble, being led around by others. I missed the sky; there was no fog to cover it in Phoenix.

I quietly walked downstairs to the table and sat down. Charlie was there already, reading the paper. I looked for some type of healthy food, and went back upstairs, unsuccessful, in a bit of a huffy mood. I got changed and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I walked down again.

Charlie looked up and acknowledged me for the first time today with a slight nod. "Good luck Bells," he said rather bluntly. I stopped in my tracks, a bit surprised. "Thanks," I said with a brief pause, although I knew his wishes for me to fit in and have a good day were wasted. Good luck, of all the types of luck out there, tended to avoid me.

He left after he said this, setting the paper down to grab his coffee and headed out the door. He was off to the police station, the only thing that pinned him down to Forks. It was, in a way, his metaphorical family. When he left, I sat down in the same-for-eighteen-years unmatching chair, next to the others of the wrong set. I looked around more clearly at my surroundings. The counters were white, gray, all drained of color. It matched the fog outside the window, and I felt a pulling feeling, that the blank area would suck the little color and life out of me as well. _My mother must have felt the same,_ I thought, looking up at the faded yellow, light blue and green cabinets, that she had insisted on painting to bring out some of the color. The fireplace nearside the door in the other adjoining room was located under an assortment of photographs; a wedding photo with my mom and Charlie in Vegas; the three of us after I was born. The rest were highlighted on no one but me; each a school picture, taken from preschool up to last year. I winced a bit, noticing the huge unsubtle shift from a family to just focusing on the embarrassing photographs of a girl blindly going through the years, each year becoming increasingly difficult and awkward than the previous. I was going to have to hide them, or flip them over-or, better yet, replace them with photos of my friends…shoot that idea. Didn't have any.

Going back to the sudden change of photographs, it wasn't that hard to realize that Charlie hadn't gotten over my mom, at least, not completely. Maybe he just avoided the thought, didn't look at the pictures as he walked by everyday. Standing up and walking over to them to get a better look, I noticed another photograph underneath one of my elementary school photos. It was a picture of Charlie and a man sitting in a wheelchair, both holding fish. A little boy was next to the man in the wheelchair. I frowned a little, looking closely at the picture. Charlie seemed pretty happy.

My watched beeped and I jumped a bit, walking over to my bag to look at it. It signaled it was 6:00.

I didn't want to go to school and seem any more awkward than I am, but after looking back at the pictures from across the room, their faces seemed mocking and crude. Turning to see the colorless blank window and counters helped to persuade me that it was time to leave the house. Besides, I should probably make sure the great orange monster could still move before it's the last second.

I slid the bag over my shoulder and pushed open the door. Pulling out my keys from my pocket and jingling them to make sure they were there without actually having to look at them, I walked up to the truck. The splashes my boats made as I walked sounded wrong, foreign; I wasn't used to water everywhere. It was still drizzling, but I didn't feel weird carrying an umbrella. In Forks, based on what I knew from my times here, everyone should have to carry an umbrella around.

I hurried to the truck, trying to escape the fog that engulfed me. It was warm inside, but the dry air still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline and…peppermint? I scooted from the shotgun to the driver's seat. Whether it was Charlie or his friend that had cleaned the car, I can only guess what types of events occurred in here, just based on the smell. Thank god they cleaned it.

I rammed my key into the slot and turned it slightly, not expecting a reaction. To my surprise, it roared loudly, and I twisted the keys even more, until the car was ready to move. I pulled down the lever to R expectantly, and it froze in place. I inhaled slowly, trying to keep patience, and it began to creep out of the driveway into the thick white fog wall that separated me from the rest of the universe.

Finding the school wasn't tough, though I had never been or seen it before. Like most things in this town, it was off the highway that normal people took when they wanted to get someplace warmer, some place with some life. It blended in with the nearly-faded-by-fog surrounding dull maroon houses so well, that it was only the sign declaring that it was the school that convinced me to pull into the parking lot. Its size increased dramatically as I pulled in closer, but still held nothing in comparison to the elementary schools or ballet schools of my childhood days.

I drove up to what I figured was the main office or front entrance to the school. No one else was parked in the area, but I parked anyways, figuring someone would instruct me to move so I wouldn't have to drive around and walk to the school five miles away in the rain like an idiot. I stopped and sat in the car, looking outside. I could see the rough brick through the rain and contemplated getting out. Did I really need to? I could easily enroll online, or somewhere else…

Pushing the ridiculous thoughts from my mind, I pushed open the door, quietly walking into the building with a small sigh. It was brightly lit, and the contrast between inside and outside caused me to shield my face. The lights were overly bright, and fake. It made the potted plants everywhere seem artificial. If the two were brought together to distract people from the absence of color outside, it must not have been noted by anyone but me that the walls, the floors, the doors, were all shades of white and gray. It was perfect; I couldn't escape the life sucking emptiness of the town. Maybe after school they'd take me to the boiler room and inform me this was the center of their world sucking organization, and that newcomers weren't welcome. Or maybe just that I wasn't welcome; I typically never was.

I pushed open the only slightly tan door in the hall and walked in. I hesitated on the orangey carpet, looking at the red haired woman sitting across a room-dividing counter, carrying stacks of wire-made trays. Their contents involved more bright florescent colors, staining my eyes once more.

The woman turned to pick up something on her desk and noticed me. She tilted her head curiously at me. "Can I help you?" I could see her a little more clearly and saw she was wearing a deep purple t-shirt. Unusual combination, considering the outside weather and the inside carpeted floors.

"I'm Isabella Swan," I coughed out; throat suddenly clamping up and refusing to move. Her eyes lit up with comprehension and expected awareness, and turned to pull something from her desk. I figured people would recognize more than just the last name; the police officer's daughter, who was taken off by his flighty wife. If they did end up taking me somewhere to suck my soul and life out, they'd probably laugh among themselves later. _See? _They'd say, no doubt toasting amongst themselves. _Nobody ever gets away from us._

The woman stood up and handed me a tiny half sheet, containing my day schedule. She went back and began flipping slowly through a large stack of papers, all which seemed to be unorganized in any way shape or form.

Around the bottom she pulled out a map and stretched out her hand to me. I walked over quickly to the counter and leaned over to try and reach it. When it was in my hand, I stepped back and my ankle randomly gave way, and I tripped my knees. Blushing, I pulled my bag back up to my shoulder, mumbled a goodbye and walked out the door.

I turned back to the parking lot and to my car. Some students were already starting to cluster, and gave me silent stares. I pursed my lips a bit and continued walking, slightly picking up speed. It wasn't too far from my truck and I slid back in easily, using the thick fog as an advantage to shield me from the other people.

I sighed, and looked through the papers that had been thrust to me. One of them seemed to be a teacher sign thing that I figured I'd have to return by the end of the day. Probably to spy on me and make sure I wouldn't expose the secret labs underneath the school.

I flipped to the map and tried to memorize it as quickly as possible. I didn't want to get lost and give people more reasons to look at me. I pushed the rest of my papers into my bag absentmindedly, still focusing on the map. _Maybe I can do this,_ I thought weakly in an attempt to settle my nerves. _No one is going to bite me…Maybe suck the life out of me, but no biting._

I exhaled and marveled in the realization that I was holding my breath. I slowly turned to watch the students walk into the building, some gaping at my truck, others ignoring it. I couldn't decide which group I liked better, the one acknowledging my existence or the others simply brushing past it. Maybe the latter group should be split into the ones who noticed but decided not to pay attention or the ones that couldn't see the faded orange through the fog.

I opened the door as another batch of the ignoring kids who passed by and I tried to blend in casually within their cluster. They paid no heed to me, making me suspect that there weren't any subsections to their overall group. I pulled my jacket hood up higher, glad to notice that it seemed to be a mainstream fashion.

I walked in the crowd past the cafeteria and then my quick memorization skills worked for the first time in my life and I remembered how to navigate across over to building three. It wasn't hard to find after that; a big black "3" was painted on a white tile. Otherwise it looked like any other building in the area. As I got closer, I felt my chest clamp up. My heart began to thud and I almost stopped walking. I tried to settle my hyperventilation and focused on getting to the door. There were two girls ahead of me, and they walked into the building with me. I followed their suit and hung my jacket up where coats were being hung. They were both brown-haired, one with porcelain skin and the other with pale skin.

Well, now I see the drainage of color has begun.

I dropped my act of follower and slowly stepped my way over to where the teacher was, or at least, who I presumed to be the teacher. He looked pretty bored, until I handed him my slip. He gave me a sour unfamiliar look, glanced down at the paper and then grew wide-eyed and, and I kid you not, gawked at me. Of course, this didn't help my already near-to-passing-out heart and I flushed a deep red, staying rooted to my spot. This also didn't help the stay-invisible position I wanted to take.

Thankfully, he sent me to the back of the room with no introductions. I'd wonder why he did that later; I was busy looking over the reading list and trying to get the feeling of eyes pouring onto me to fade away.

Most of the books listed were ones I had read in school previous years; the curriculum here seemed to be years off from that of Paradise Valley District where I lived. I considered asking my mom to email me my old essays as I hadn't packed a flash drive or anything write-y to accompany me on the trip to Kingdom Come. Hey, if I'm going to have my soul swallowed up by the end of the day, I may as well come to terms with it now.

I wonder if my mom would think it was cheating to send up the essays. I wonder if she'll even have time to send them up. I wonder if she'll even see the email. I went through my wondering and several scenarios involving the essays and her that ended in yelling as the teacher droned on in the background of my mind. The only thing I heard in class was the bell ring, and when it did, my bag suddenly dropped from my hands, contents spilling over the floor.

Blushing again, I got down on my hands and knees, picking everything up as quickly as possible. A shadow emerged over me and I looked up to see a kid smiling down at me. He had really slick shiny black hair that gave off the appearance of an oil spill. I smiled nicely at him, but inside I groaned. I didn't want any friends, or anyone to talk to for that matter.

"I'll take it you're Isabella Swan?" He asked, already sure of the answer. I looked back down at my stuff, hiding my smile fade down into an apathetic stare. "It's just Bella," I squeaked, trying to divert attention away from myself. It didn't work; I looked up half a second later to see everyone within a three yard radius to turn to stare blankly at me. The blank faces sent me back to staring at the floor. I was going to end up like that.

This kid seemed like the overly helpful desperate-for-a-friend type but didn't even bother to help me with my things. _Great, we've got fakes here too,_ I thought bitterly, standing up and walking past the aisles of chairs and desks. The kid followed suit, looking down at a white index card he held. "What class do you have next?" He bounded and hopped over desks to catch up next to me.

I paused, opening my bag and scrimmaging though to find the card. I briefly considered lying, but we've all seen how it comes out. "Government with Jefferson." I had taken government last year. I guess moving from a big city to a small town meant you gave up the credits you've already received and had to start over from scratch.

The kid smiled, seemingly for his own intents. "Oh, I have a class in building four. You're looking for building number six." He somehow managed to maintain eye contact with me, though I kept turning away. "I could show you the way, if you wanted."

Yep. Desperately helpful all right.

He extended his hand over his shoulder in an odd position to shake hands with me. "I'm Eric," he said confidently, giving a little nod. I smiled softly. "Thanks."

I pulled my jacket off the coat hanger, and it somehow got stuck. Eric pulled his off successfully and walked to the door, obviously _not_ the helpful type. Just sticking up for the new girl for some brownie suck-up-to-teacher points.

I managed to yank my jacket off the hook without spilling anything again, and strode to the door, head faced downward as to avoid any eye contact. Eric rejoined me as I walked outside. The rain picked up again.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?"

"Very." I mumbled out, noticing the crowd directly behind us. They were close enough to eavesdrop. I know I'm being paranoid but I felt like they were sent to make sure I didn't plant any thoughts of escape into the thoughtless happy-go-lucky students or citizens of Forks.

I reached into the bag to pull out my safety umbrella, and held it up over my head. Eric looked at me from the outside, a bit peculiarly. "It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

I shrugged. "Three or four times a year."

He paused with his questions. "Wow," he said at last, exhaling a smidge. "I wonder what that must be like…"

"Sunny." I said squarely, trying to put the thoughts of secret government organizations outside of my thoughts. He frowned at me, and grabbed hold of my arm, lifting the hand delicately.

"You don't look very tan," he pointed out. I snatched my hand away sourly.

"My mother is part albino." I said with a slight sigh of exasperation. He began to study my face much like he had done my hand. Obviously part of the sucking process left people with humors to stand out like a sore thumb. A few more hours of this and I'll have forgotten sarcasm.

We continued walking back around the cafeteria and towards the gym buildings. Even though like building three it was clearly marked, Eric walked me all the way up to the door. As soon as I lay my hand onto the handle to open the door, he decided to speak again. "Good luck. Maybe we'll have some more classes together." He said, acting as if he expected a warm exchange in return. I closed my eyes and faced him, smiling vaguely and walked in, not looking at his reaction. I'll let him interpret my smile.

My morning went smoothly, as far as smooth goes in a government agency lab. The Trig teacher, Mr. Varner, was the only teacher who felt compelled to make me stand in front of the class in silence and introduce myself. Of course, in my rush to the seat, I successfully managed to fumble over my own feet and landed on the floor. I had blushed even more, and half crawled, half stumbled to the seat.

After my first two classes, I started to notice a repeat in faces. There would be someone brave who came up to me and introduced themselves, and like Eric, began questioning me about what I felt about Forks and Phoenix. I tried to hide my true colors from possible lurking scientists that could be nearby, but it made me sound blank and uninterested, let alone just plain and awkward. I lied a lot too, and tried to keep my composure convincing. Hopefully it worked.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and in Spanish, and walked with me towards the cafeteria for lunch. To be honest, I didn't bother remembering her name, but she was tiny; much smaller than even my five feet four inches. Her thick curly hair seemed to make up for it. I wasn't listening to her as she prattled about teachers and students; just nodded at appropriate times.

We both sat at the end of a table, where most of her friends resided. After more introductions, which I had promptly forgotten after addressed, and questions had been asked, the table emerged into talking and joking of all sorts. I looked around boredly, and noticed Eric from English. He was sitting with more fancily dressed students. He noticed me, smiled and waved. I gave a slight upturn of my lip, enough to pass as a smile, and continued looking around the lunch room.

I was staring at a particular location in the wall for no reason when I noticed the door open in my peripheral vision. I looked over to see a new group of students walk in, one I hadn't seen earlier. They walked to the corner I had been staring at and sat down at the only table available there. They didn't follow suit like the other kids; they didn't talk and didn't seem to have any food.

Looking down at my tray with just an apple, I didn't feel very hungry anymore. After seeing these kids, I felt for sure that I was going to be brainwashed or killed or whatever. They were pale as chalk, palest I had seen so far in this town, and dark black eyes. They were either just drained with no appetite or reason to talk of the horrible ordeals they had faced, or they were a part of the secret organization. They weren't staring at me, like every other student in the room, so it was safe for now. But still; my appetite was gone.

They still held individuality though; I could look forward to still looking plain and white after this mess. There were three boys and two girls. The girls differed immensely in height and in hair color, along in styles; the short, brown-haired pixie cut girl wore dark black gothic Lolita, while the other was a bleach blonde girl who you would expect to see on a sports or fashion magazine.

The guys didn't look alike either; there was a blonde, a dark curly-haired boy and another smaller bronze-haired kid. The curly-haired boy looked seriously strong and tough, but didn't give off a serious threat vibe. The two others didn't look nearly as fit but were both lean. The bronze haired one looked more boyish or younger than the rest of the men, who looked like they could all be in college, or even teach.

I couldn't find any similarity between the people, any common dressing interest or anything else to define their "group." They didn't fit into the two I had thought of earlier this morning and they definitely didn't fit into any social groups I was used to. They were all, however, inhuman-like they all were photoshopped to make teenagers and adults everywhere self-conscious and insecure about their own looks. I couldn't decide who looked more, literal word usage here, beautiful-the blonde haired girl or the bronze haired boy.

Still gazing at them, I tapped the girl I had walked here with. "Who are those people, over there?" I whispered. She looked and nodded in understanding and empathy. "They're the Cullens," she whispered back.

The tiny pixie girl stood up, surprising me and my neighbor, and strode out through the back door in which she had entered. The bronze-haired boy looked up after her with a slight scowl on his face; paused-and then looked towards our direction. It was such a sudden change that my neighbor and I didn't have time to look away before his eyes flickered from her to me. I could see directly at him; his face blank but still positioned to change to a scowl at any moment. He turned away after a few seconds, but what was an eternity to me. I looked down with a deep sigh, unaware I had been holding my breath. My heart began to beat regularly again.

I looked over to my neighbor, who had looked back up from the table in embarrassment to a calm and casual look of news. "That one is Edward, next to him is Emmett," she said, pointing each of them out by name. These names stuck, unlike hers or the other people's names. "The girl who just left was Alice Cullen; those other two, they're Jasper and Rosalie Hale."

Edward turned back to face the group at his table, his back hunched over, like he was talking to them. They all still did not look at each other, or him, but maybe that was to not alert the public. Or me, if they were what I thought they were.

They had pretty strange, uncommon fancy names; the kind that grandparents would be named. I finally remembered my neighbors name as Jessica, a pretty common everyday name. I had two Jessica's in my history class back home. Because this was an uncommon place there was only one Jessica.

"They're all…pretty…good looking." I said, stretching out my thought and deciding on 'good-looking' as appropriate word choice for their drop-dead beauty. She giggled. "Yes! They're all taken though;" and she started to sound like a socialite, gossiping about the town scandal, "by _each other_.

"Alice and Jasper are together and so are Rosalie and Emmett." She leaned in closer, obviously not finished with her tirade. "And they _live _together."

Oh. Convenient. They can plot about ways to take my sanity at school _and _at home. It was odd though, and I forgave Jessica for being gossipy about it; it was something that would cause rumors, even in Phoenix.

"How are they related?" I asked curiously.

"They live with Dr. Cullen and his wife. And, they _aren't _related. His wife adopted all of them. The Hales-Jasper and Rosalie-are foster kids, and twins."

"They look pretty old to be foster kids…"

Jessica pursed her lips, as if the thought hadn't really hit her. "Well, Mrs. Cullen is…like, their aunt or something? And so she had them since they were eight-ish. They're eighteen now."

I looked away from Jessica back to them. They still stared at walls and avoided any contact with one another. So they're unknown in the town and tend to stick away from people? My horrible imagination this morning was coming true. And their dad was a doctor; they had access to areas where they could cut people open.

Jessica was unaware of my subtle shift of focus away from her to the table in the corner, and continued. "I don't think Mrs. Cullen can have kids," she said airily, with a hint of disgust, "and that's why she adopted so many."

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked, right as she was about to bite into her sandwich. She stopped midway, and gave me a look as though I should know the answer, even if I am new. "Uh…no," she said, setting the sandwich down. "They moved here from…Alaska..?, like, two years ago."

Outsiders huh. Like me. I suddenly felt some pity fly over to them. It was quickly snatched back with reminders that these may as well be the people digging my grave. If they had gotten here two years ago, it probably meant they had joined a sector located here in Forks, and that this whole life-sucking thing was national, or coastal, or even global. On the other hand, I thought briefly, it could mean that they differ in skin color and liveliness because they were still new to the effects of the soul-sucking.

And besides, if they were deemed, by Forks standards, "new," it meant I wasn't anything interesting. Not compared to these creatures.

The one who had looked at me before turned to face me again, eyes blazing into mine, with a much fiercer gaze than he had displayed earlier; like I had done something to offend him. I gasped, and hid my face into my jacket. All the thoughts about him being a victim and my pity for him vanished; as if he was unconsciously reminding me to stay alert.

"So, that's uh…Edward?" I asked, glancing over in Jessica's direction, still trying to avoid his dark glare.

She nodded sourly. "Don't let his uh…_looks_ fool you though. He's gorgeous, but doesn't date. Apparently no one here is good enough for him."

Sensing a past disharmony between her and Edward, I dropped the subject of the Cullen family all together, and glanced over his way to see if he was still glaring at me. His head was turned away, and I bit my lip a bit while looking at his hair; wonder when he turned her down.

The group stood up suddenly, and walked back out the door. Edward looked frustrated, as though I hadn't met some expectation of his. I frowned a bit, but freaked out inside. _I needed to avoid them at all costs, _I decided. _Especially him._

**Silly little Bella. You have no idea. Gosh, she's a jerk in this chapter. So awkward and all paranoid. Sorry if it was confusing to have her imagination run off.**

**Till tomorrow-maybe!**


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